


Snowman

by Ashe_chr



Category: Senyuu. (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gakuen AU, M/M, help them, obvious pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 18:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21257816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashe_chr/pseuds/Ashe_chr
Summary: A walk home with two pining idiots.Nothing goes wrong.





	Snowman

If there was one season that was known for being dreadful, yet so beautiful, it’d be the season of winter. The powdery snow always colored the ground in a cloud like color, and the temperature was always an excuse for couples to huddle up to take in the mellow warmth of each other. The freezing weather was cruel to those who decided to brave the snow though, and the seasons never showed mercy. Even to those unfortunate to get caught in it. Not even a pair of foolish highschool boys who walked home under the fluttering snowflakes, were safe from the sugar of the treat known as winter. 

The short brunette rubbed his arms, wanting to create a warmth to bring himself to a comfortable body temperature. He let out a warm breath into his hands, loathing himself for deciding to be out in just his winter uniform and a jacket. He and his classmate had thought it would be a good idea to go out right after school, thinking they wouldn’t get caught in the snow. They were wrong, very wrong. 

“You should’ve worn more layers, Prez,” lectured the raven walking with him, still keeping up with the nickname even after the soccer club was abolished.

Alba looked up at the taller boy with an unamused look, “Well, it's not my fault you said we would be back home before the time it would snow.”

“Ohhh… did I say that?” asked Ross, playing the fool without any actual effort put into it. 

“Yes. Yes you did.” 

“Ah, must be bad memory.”

Alba’s unamused look turned to annoyance with his claim. He knew from experience that Ross’s memory wasn’t that bad, and he knew that he was just doing that to get him riled up. 

“And yet you’ll never forget the times you’ve tripped me in school.”

“I’m keeping count!” Ross beamed with glowing eyes, “I’ve tripped you precisely forty-eight times!” 

Alba winced and groaned simultaneously, forty-eight times too many. At this rate he was getting used to his friend being a sadistic asshole towards him (somehow). He hated how he was getting a tiny bit used to it, but his friend was too special to him for him to not get used to it. He sighed, “Forty-eight huh?”

The two continued walking down the snowy streets, Ross showing no signs of being cold while Alba was breathing into his hands. The only sound between them was the sound of footsteps in the snow, and the occasional intake of air from one or the other. They could barely see in the night, and knew that as the evening carried on it would only get darker and the snow would get worse.

Alba sighed, “Looks like getting home alone is going to be a fun time,” he muttered under his breath sarcastically, looking ahead. His home was only a few blocks after Ross’s house, and even then he could only assume just how much longer they had. It looked like he was either gonna, A, get sick, B, probably have something worse happen to him AND get sick, or C, nothing will happen and he’s just being paranoid. He hoped it was C.

“If you aren’t sick already then you’ll definitely get sick before you get home,” the black haired boy pointed out as though he could read Alba’s mind, “Your hands are pretty much white.”

Alba looked down at his hands, they were indeed, white. Damn, he was so focused on trying to warm himself up he didn’t notice his hands, but now that he did, he suddenly felt the aching of freezing hands. The brunette internally cursed himself for deciding to not wear gloves, thinking that he’d be fine before he left for school.

To his defense though, despite Ross wanting to deny it being his fault, it was a stir of the moment proposition, and he promised they’d get home before the weather got like this! 

“A-ah…” Alba whimpered as he continued shivering. “Should have… d-definitely worn gloves.” He rubbed his hands together, wanting to desperately make heat. 

“I guess Prez continues to show how useless he is.”

“EH?! How is this proving me being useless this time?”

“So you don’t deny it.”

“Nooo I am denying it.”

“It’s better to just accept your uselessness before you go into the anger stage.”

“The what stage?”

“Oh you don’t know the Kübler-Ross model? It’s the second stage of the five stages of grief!”

“I am NOT going through grief!”

“The first stage is denial though.”

“No? What would I even go through grief for?”

“Rejected love maybe.”

“No.”

“Maybe. Who is it for? Hime perhaps? You do know that she only has eyes for that Foyfoy kid right? Or maybe, is it Crea? I think he’s morosexual so you might have a chance.”

“No, I don’t have a crush on Hime, and Crea’s what?”

“Morosexual, it’s when you have an attraction to complete and utter idiots.”

“No! I don’t have a crush on Crea, and did you seriously just call me an idiot again?”

“Oh… wasn’t it morosexuals would be attracted to Crea?”

“That’s mean…”

“I know.”

“Yeah… I expected that from you.”

“Hm… would it be Janua?”

“Why would my crush ever be on Janua?”

“Ah. So you admit you have a crush on somebody.”

“DAMMIT!”

As much as he’d like to deny it, Alba really did have somebody that made him feel butterflies in his stomach. Even if that person was a sadist. Even if the person was the very guy who he was kinda one sided bickering with. It gets really hard for him to deny that he wasn’t a masochist if he was falling in love with someone who… lovingly bullies him. To the point where even he doubts himself when he denies being one. 

“You really are the worst sometimes, you know that?” Alba says with annoyance dripping from his tone. 

“And yet you seem to take it in stride,” retorted Ross. He then let out a gasp and held his body as if he were protecting himself, putting on his best shocked face. “C-could it be? You… you have a crush on me? Prez… you wouldn’t dare!” 

Alba stopped where he was and it took him a grand total of three seconds to comprehend what his friend just said.

One…

Two…

Three...

Aaaand like magic, Alba’s white face, cold from the weather around them, instantly turned a bright red, and his entire head was screaming. It was taking everything in his power to not hide his face in his hands out of pure embarrassment. How did he get it absolutely right? When he was just messing with him? “N-No!!! No it’s not!” Alba cried.

He was right. Despite how hurtful he could be sometimes, the poor boy really couldn’t stay mad at him. He was a pushover for him, he hated to admit it. Damn his big gay heart for choosing the one that would earn him the title of Certified Masochist™. 

Ross looked down at the boy and observed his face and gave himself an internal pat on the back. His face was no longer as white as the snow beneath their feet was, and was instead became a tomato with eyes. It was quite amusing to him seeing his friend like this actually. Even if he wouldn’t admit, he too, had a big gay heart, and that big gay was heart won by a masochist. 

It was a match made in Heaven in his opinion.

Ross observed the boy’s hands again, and clicked his tongue. They were still white. Would he be freaked out if I were to hold his hand? Would I be freaked out if I were to hold his hand? I could always excuse it with wanting to warm it up… I really want to hold his hand… I’m gonna do it.

While he was caught off, and his hands were left unguarded, Ross took his opportunity and took hold of his crush’s hand. Alba’s yelling was put on hold to also register this. His entire dumb face said everything he needed to, get everything he was thinking across. He didn’t need to say a word. 

In short terms, it was saying, “Eh?” for a good five seconds, letting the silence between the two fill in the rest of the blanks. The brunette’s already red face got darker as the revelation of what was happening at that very moment. Were… were they really holding hands right now? “W… what are you doing?” he meeped, not tearing his hand away.

“Holding your hand,” replied Ross flatly.

“Y-Y-You’re not even subtle about it!”

‘AND YOU’RE CUTE’ yelled both of them inside their heads, looking at each other. They’d never say it to their faces, of course, but they can say it to each other in their heads and they’d never know. So that works just fine. 

They just looked at their hands, not really bothering to tear them away from each other. It was as if they were to be merged together and could never go back from being two separate objects. 

“WHY AREN’T YOU PULLING YOUR HAND AWAY?” they screamed internally at each other. Both of them were trying to rationalize what was going on, except they were both doing it very poorly. Everything in their heads were yelling at each other, denying that the other might like them back. They surely don’t like them back, right? This was just an act friends do! Warming up each other’s hands. Perfectly, non couple, related thing. 

Out of desperate need for the agonizingly awkward silence to stop, Ross took his free hand and punched Alba in the stomach. That got them to let go, at the cost of someone being in pain. “Whyyyyyyy…” Alba groaned, falling to his knees as he held his stomach. 

Yeah, he doesn’t like Alba back. 

“Because your stupid blushing face was getting annoying.” Ross replied, trying to hide his, also blushing, face in his jacket. 

“I should have guessed…” the brunette replied as he clutched his aching stomach. 

“Come on Prez, let’s get going, if it’s too late I’ll let you stay at my house so you don’t have to walk alone,” Ross stated, making a notion with his head that they should get going. He offered his hand to help his friend off his knees, and Alba took it with much gratitude.

The walk there was with silence between them, and this time, they didn’t let go, and instead, held hands like any other couple would. Even if they were blushing really… really badly.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the draft in comic sans.


End file.
